


This Time Skye Sets the Fire

by grantdoglessward



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Gen, grant ward is not questionably evil, there isn't hydra, this is completely au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-31 11:58:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3977209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grantdoglessward/pseuds/grantdoglessward
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone needs to write a ‘the fire alarm went off at 3 am and now the cute guy from the flat next door is standing next to me in his underwear’ AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Time Skye Sets the Fire

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic so I am not sure if it is any good, but here you go :)  
> This is a an AU where there is no Hydra takeover and is more of a domestic setting with the main characters - S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't come in till a bit later.

Someone needs to write a ‘the fire alarm went off at 3 am and now the cute guy from the flat next door is standing next to me in his underwear’ AU

  
Skye leaned against the cold brickwork of the building, her hands nervously fondling the loose brick behind her. Smears of reddy orange wiping off onto her hands.

  
Around her there was a bustle of people - unusual for this time of night. Though, I mean, she did know exactly why they were there. They were there because she - ever the trained chef - had accidentally set the fire alarms off cooking chicken nuggets.

  
And her fire alarm was connected to the whole apartment complex. So if one went off, they all did.

  
It was a flaw in the architecture of the building.

  
That was what was to blame.

  
Not her.

  
At least that is what she tried to explain to her grumbling roommate. She didn't add that the British were meant to be good with cold weather. She was at least awake enough to realise that Jemma may not appreciate the sentiment.

  
Jemma seemed a bit miffed that she, "the innocent casualty in yet another one of your shenanigans - Bloody hell Skye" was hopping barefoot on the cold tarmac in skimpy shorts and a tank top, whilst Skye - the culprit - got the comfort and frankly dignity of jeans and a t-shirt, although one suitably low cut to tease the gentlemen.

  
"Yet more proof that karma doesn't exist" Jemma retorted.

  
But Skye could see the quirk of her mouth as Jemma scanned the gathering of the barely and weirdly clothed people. Some of which she swore she had never seen before. Look at her, bringing the neighbours together, and people said the community was dead; she was practically a model citizen. Despite the unorthodox method. Which was in fact unintentional.

  
She and Jemma were polar opposites, but she knew that despite the other's grumbling, Jemma loved the messes Skye pulled her into - including the disastrous matchmaking attempt of May and Coulson which included five bottles of whisky, slashing someone's tyres, making three fake dating profiles - two of which mocked a certain someone's obsession with good old 'cap - and buying all of the toilet paper in the nearby store before Coulson got there.

 

 

"Helllllloooo ladies", their next door neighbour called from behind. He shouldn't have bothered with the slurred and usually vulgar greeting. She didn't need to hear his stumbling of words to know he had been raiding his fridge for beer again. It wasn't like the beer was hard to locate, in all honesty, as she knew from the brief, and decidedly unfortunate visit to his apartment, that the entirety of his fridge was comprised of alcohol - and a carrot, which given Garret's appalling low standards of housekeeping was probably still there. Even if it had been three years. No, the acrid whiff of beer nuzzled her as he leaned much too close, bringing back the memories of childhood she was still repressing. And then it came. The slap to her arse that men like good old Johnny-boy didn't realise wasn't the best way of attracting a girl's attention.

  
It was the best way to piss one off though.

  
And before Jemma could interject with a well-worded and scathing remark directed at Garrett, Skye flipped him over her shoulder and enjoyed his groan of indignation as he realised - much later due to his drunkenness - that he was now facing the vast expanse of black sky.

  
Then he threw up on himself.

  
He would forget tomorrow exactly why his clothes stank of vomit and his back was throbbing, but it didn't take anything away from the moment.

  
Maybe karma did exist after all.

  
"John?" queried a man who ran out of the building's main door into the vibrating crowds. Not a note of anger, not even vague indignation, traced his voice - he just seemed confused. Skye liked that immediately.

  
Then she turned around and almost gave herself whiplash (sans the car) as she did a double take at the man standing in front of her.

  
One of the first rules when dealing with a house fire is not to take anything: just get out as soon as you can. But Skye couldn't bring herself to lecture him. Jemma would do that later, but with a good-natured, motherly, tone in her voice - making it clear that she just cared about the man's safety. Although, it wasn't hard to see why he had grabbed the small black lab now curled into his chest. Quivering a little in fear; its velvety nose pressed against the man's neck. (Skye hated using the word "it" to describe the small heap of shiny black fur, but she also didn't want to annoy the animal by giving it the wrong gender - there was still a small part of her that thought animals could understand humans. Just a small part). The puppy shifted tiredly in the man's arms, repositioning itself again the man's chest...the man's very bare chest.

  
In fact, Skye came to the slow realisation that the man was practically completely naked, aside from a pair of black boxer briefs - the black complementing the dog pretty well.  
"So, you are one of those pet owners that wear matching outfits with their dogs, huh?" Skye joked, unable to resist a sarcastic quip should the opportunity arise.  
The man turned to properly face her. His boxers had ridden slightly down; they were still far up enough to cover everything "down there" decently, but not to cover up the strands of tangled hair that ran from his belly button downwards. A true blessing in disguise. His shoulders were Captain America length apart (boy would Coulson be pleased) and a career that obviously required the type of physical fitness that involved practically living in a gym was given away by his toned body. Toned literally everywhere. His slightly tanned skin also revealed that he had probably been off somewhere warm recently. Warmer than the cold streets of New York, especially on a October night.

  
Skye would have offered him some form of clothing, except nothing short of stripping off would have given her anything to offer. She almost turned round to Jemma to get a spare jacket from her usually overly prepared friend before guilty remembering Jemma's slight predicament with clothing. Hey, at least now Jemma wasn't the only one barely dressed...not by a long shot.

  
Tousled strands of black hair highlighted that the man was probably in bed less than 10 minutes ago. Skye grimaced again guiltily - though she still stood with blaming the architect.

  
The man's brow furrowed in confusion as he tried to comprehend what Skye had just said. Before Skye could interject with an awkward explanation his lips quirked into a small smile and he hiked the dog up further - "hate to contradict you but Buddy here doesn't belong to me" she said partially through the dog's fur.

  
At the sound of the name a girl - around eight years old at the most - came running towards them. Skye wasn't ashamed to admit that the people in the apartment building weren't well off - despite some working 18 hours shifts in one go, still to come home with a smile to their loved ones and enough patience to help with homework and cook up dinner, even with limited food. The little girl's parents had seemingly brought too long pyjama bottoms to make sure they lasted the girl for a pretty long time, and tiny Mike Wazowskis immortalised in cartoon form were unapologetically greeted with the grime of the dusty ground as the hem of the girl's pyjama trousers slipped over her bare feet and stretched till they covered half of her soles. The girl didn't seem to care though and shot at them with a tangle of shiny blonde hair ricocheting around her face, which Skype wondered how was not impending her view, shouting the name "budddyyyyy".

  
The man crouched down to greet the child. Damn, he was also good with kids, Skye thought as if it mattered, as if she wasn't already extremely attracted to him. He seemed surprisingly okay with giving up his one source of heat, although the frozen ground must have been seeping into his feet by now, working his way into his bones. Although, with the disarming grin the girl gave them all, it wasn't too much of a surprise why the man would eagerly give her back her pet.

  
"Here he is Charlie, all safe and sound" the man reassured, the lines around his eyes crinkling as he gave a loving smile. It was different to the last smirk - not more genuine, not better, just more broader and less nervous and filled with kindness. Skye loved when a person had so many smiles, which meant so many different things.

  
The girl squealed with delight and took the offered puppy before burying her face into his shoulder. He was still crouched down, at the perfect height for the hug, and embraced his arms around her also.

  
Then, Skye got the immense delight of seeing the ripples of muscles in his back fluctuate as the man stood up, with the little girl still hanging on, to take her back to her parents. It was a bit of a weird sight - the half naked man carrying the little girl. In the street lamp lit street outside the building a glow was cast upon the guy and the child cradled into him. He looked almost like a guardian angel in his illumination. But that was almost probably just Skye's hormones talking...

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :)  
> Please review - construction criticism is great - but if you thought it was shit, just try to word that nicely!  
> This started as just a prompt but I have plans for more chapters if you want them, where you find out Ward's connection to Garrett and more about Coulson's relationship with Skye...


End file.
